Zephyr Flare
/pose
Yay got access to my fanfics again <3 This has been revised, warns for blood and stuff. Random anime character deaths out of hate 
This is based on an AU of a friend where one of my characters who I rp with, the person regarded here and herself were involved but in a more Pokemon setting.
All you need to know about that is Stone family is gone so she and her husband (still makes me snicker that) are now in charge there and it is now a fliers gym.
He and the guy here have issues which each other that is revealed throughout this and no I don't know where Gary went either, we both suspect he got offed
So thats all really, I do warn that in this chapter there is a random death, a little plain but what ya gonna do about it?
---
People often wonder who committed the murders of the Stone family of Pewter City; it was something never answered after all. Seven years ago yet still there is no clue and though all authorities attempts have given up trying to figure it out, as naturally would happen there is people who still choose ponder.
There has been a new gym leader there a while now even if a little reluctant at first, a girl who had come out of nowhere to cover using flying Pokemon instead of the traditional rock type, all dictated by the Higher authorities…
However the leader currently catering for the mostly desolate Viridian Gym happens to know exactly what happened there to every extent of detail. He knows about both the murder of the former gym trainers in perhaps both locations, possibly even other mystery deaths around the surrounding areas.
Of course where he “lives” few bother going near these days, nobody else lives there except him, as it’s quite a literal hellhole now carved to be different to suit his liking over the lush former grasslands and forest.
Anybody who is unlucky to see him will see him differently to another. To humans he looks human, to a hybrid human he will resemble the same hybrid, to a Pokemon different still. He is everything and nothing at the same time and only he actually knows what he really looks like behind this gift ability. The only trait that ever seems to be ever present is the most severe or scarlet gazes.
For you see the current leader isn’t human.
Nor hybrid.
Not even an enhanced Pokemon.
He is something completely different.
The matter of how ruthless this Gym Leader is will hardly escape any notice; nobody has ever beaten him in a fight let alone left Viridian with their life since blood first befell the area. To lose to him is equivalent to losing your life in this twisted game, your corpse free to be left rotting in the mangled terrain of desert and burning grounds.
So many different names have been used, recycled, rearranged as he manipulates and deceives constant charges if his interest is caught, choosing to come and go as he pleases. This act is simply to update his knowledge and heed towards his former love for the collection, even if the thought has long evaporated in his bitter view and brings anything but the joy it once did.
This leader used to collect anything deemed a rarity be it an object or alive, as long as it fit the description. These were and still are kept imprisoned within a hidden room below the gym far out of the view from even the most eagle-eyed of idiotic wanderers.
Any collected females usually had the “pleasure” of not just being stared at as well; he loved a psychical examination of his prizes, regular ones at that but now his disinterest seems to have scarred the very thought, lingering only to incite his rage.
For us, his name is simply Arthus, a former collector of the rare and rarest, owner of the Viridian Gym, its redesigned badge and torn homeland.
----
Arthus sighs boredly as he flicks through his notes scrawled with what only can be described as doodles while rummaging through a few boxes with a free hand.
Necromancy of any of the Outlander corpses struck nought but a nerve now proving more of an irritant than a form of enjoyment so new ideas need to be sought before his mind has the chance to think alone. For those alive already, he has simply been lacking interest in the majority of the humans he has come across within the previous months leading to bother him greatly that another joy has turned blunted.
All four eyes narrow eyeing a notepad a moment before placing it with the rest accompanied by a slight tail flicker. Frowning further in his search, he takes the cigarette away from his jaw, not even flinching as some of the burning ash falls onto his flesh but it is not that it leaves a mark either upon the obsidian hide.
Nobody has stupidly come to the Gym either with those wretches under their command causing a summer like lull for entertainment. But a wandering thought proclaims, how is a creature purely made of big eyes and puff supposed to be used in battle anyway?
Even his fellow residents, several spawned demons and a lone Split Jaw show disinterest in the flesh and the last girl that came to his door waving cookies for sale. Life barely lasted longer than her shredded felt hat because of her annoying screams; that was about seven months ago.
Placing the cig back in his mouth he continues to sift and muse over his written notes, some hosting sand in their bindings. He keeps all these just to help understand the humans better for his personal studies but also to fit in better when he walks amongst them without seeming like a homeless man or further attractor of attention.
Their need for water he finds most bothersome of all for their information, he had never seen such a concept prior to founding this new land and from what he had gathered, and they were in constant need of it. Such strange, strange creatures.
The boxes themselves contain all sorts of various bits and pieces, rare in some cases but certainly not worth putting up for admirance. A rag or two with other clothing are there as well are neatly folded, not for himself seeing as the Reflector has them in built but several collectibles did need them.
Glancing aside from his notes again, he carefully scoops up a violet crystalline shard; he has been wondering where that had got to due to its absence for a few days. Given the trouble he had to get it he did not want it out of his sight so he puts the jewel by his foot with claws loosely curled over before going back to his reading
‘Obey or trick your superiors, enslave or destroy those who aren’t, hmm. If it was up to me the entirely region would be purged with the idiocy of the life forms here. Well… except two’ he muses aloud stubbing out the cigarette on his leg not even responding with a dutiful flinch as a response.
This happens to bother him a lot; one of his best hunters who he converted at a young age broke a few years ago because of the current Pewter Gym Leader. He has long started to get some sense of soul back and Arthus didn’t particularly like it, nor the fact that several attempts to get to the girl had failed for quelling his anger. She is truly unique, far different from the human reengages about. That alone meaning she is destined as a reward to be solely his, just like the Sukurji that had injured him so bad in times past.
He had got her once but she was pregnant, he couldn’t have done anything given the circumstances, which angered him further even if he had unintentionally helped aid the father to think she had cheated on him for himself. It was amusing while it lasted now with the happy families routine, the whole ideal has become much harder to control. Though the influence was still inside, the leader can barely get anything through beyond updates to the body dweller.
It would be so easy to use a psychic shock to overwhelm the traitor, let the influence site up their little world but he could never get close enough. Given the various murders lately however, it would seem Hance in Pewter City was rather high on the list of suspects according to papers; at least something shows a sign of intelligence in this realm.
He had wanted the girl badly, lusted for her, needing to see her under glass like so many had been long before but have since died unable to sate his demand before he gave up on the notion entirely. But she is different for the Dragon thing he had picked up on a few years ago, worth bringing back again and again possibly if the candle would be rekindled.
It’s just the now husband was in the way; that’s something else he never did quite get over he never looked the type at all.
‘Blasted humans’ he mutters flipping back through his notes back to the ones on Yami.
He has collected quite a lot of data on her, both through running into her those scarce few times and things the influence had mentioned…. Weak points like constant paranoia and the fact she still gets a little edgy if nobodies there including the brat or one of Hance’s Pokemon.
Kids are either a failure upon his species or it is just him who hates them so.
As far as he had been told, there have been no other children in any form, just the unusually fast growing one that surely came incidentally from the infection; she’d still be takable if things were timed right which would be easy on his part but there would be problematic. He is rather for having the girl here for good over pitifully short periods but he is personally unsure if he could get the swine back under his control again to allow for it.
‘Erm hello, please is anybody here?’ a voice echoes from upstairs accompanied by an uneasy creak.
Muttering angrily with a quick scritch of one of his extra eyes, Arthus gets swiftly off the bed, leaving his notes and boxes where they are. Without so much of a check he heads towards the stairs ascending in a drawn out stone spiral out of sight before him.
Truthfully he loathes being interrupted no matter the reason and often with a neck snap in response but, if somebody bothered to come to his little wasteland, he wasn’t about to deny him or her a presence as that would be quite rude wouldn’t it?
His fury lightens slightly when his eyes meet the visitor, a girl, a human girl with short emerald hair and a determined yet almost desperate expression with hands tightly clasped together. Even from the doorway it is hard to miss the slit of blood trickling down her arm, surely gained as gift from one of his fellow residents not liking a new comer on their land.
‘Yes, there is somebody here’ he answers flatly standing a little way as he waits patiently for why she had decided to come and more so for why his presence was demanded. Given such a weak build and almost whitest skin from the light, it can hardly be considered that she is at all strong enough for travel letting a curious taint linger.
‘I am Erika, sir, leader of the Celadon Gym and part of the Gym Leader Institute Commission which you may also know as GLIC. I have come upon request of higher authorities regarding your… Gym’ her tone tries to match a feel of timid with an attention grabbing tone failing miserably by the way she looks round constantly like the shadows would jump her. That said they wouldn’t be doing until told to.
‘Just call me Arthus, hu- miss, I am no sir’ he responds with a slight dip of head, inwardly cursing himself the half slip caused but his current isolation. Giving a light curtsey despite her rather draping kimono in return, Erika tries to keep eye contact for politeness sake to add to her stern demure but each time she flinches away never able to hold it for more than a few seconds at a shot.
Arthus knows well enough what she wants without need of question now he has had his moments, her mind is but a shatter of nerves further shown by the way she keeps pulling back her sleeve to stop it touching the wound as it slides back down every so often.
‘Well then… Arthus, I have come after many messengers we have sent have simply vanished after been seen through Pewter City so I am afraid I have had to come in person on their behalf. Since the former Leader of this location also disappeared a few years ago now, this gym was never reinstated with the GLIC and has had some… renovation which has not been submitted for approval either.’ She frowns slightly at his totally unbothered expression.
‘If I may ask regarding the desolation outside; do you have such disregard for plant life?’
‘The messengers who trespassed here were dealt with accordingly; I saw no need to lower myself to underlings rule, not then nor do I now. This region has little I can consider care for.’ He answers with a far stronger tone and eyes firmly narrowed over those crossed arms.
Even the Celadon Gym Leader cannot hide the shudder.
‘As a new gym leader it’s your duty to abide by the rules of GLIC, there are to be no exceptions.’ Her voice is already quietening, her eyes slightly wider and nerves surfacing by the second at the way he eyes, the slight grin crawling into his face.
‘Well,’ he answers with an almost sick tone, the grin turning further twisted with a touch of inhuman as he glares at her, the door behind the new Message Runner creaking shut with lock
‘I guess I can show none for you either.’
Erika looks at him, stricken with alarm at his words when, suddenly, something strikes her mind in the form a violent mental jolt forcing her without to the ground and her eyes to pale. Her entire body revolts in agony in twitches, all the nerves feeling as though on a fire while really, it’s just the strike attacking the main area of the brain where they are located.
‘Sorry human but I’m not about to lower myself to your politics or your laws, they simply don’t interest me.’ Turning away with his amusement dropped for a far more boredly approach that she fell at such a feeble strike.
Despite the pain forcing her struggle to become barely noticeable, Erika somehow manages to move her hand to where are Pokemon are kept, grazing it once, twice with her finger tips before actually catching one for release. As the light fades, a rotten yellow patched Victreebel hisses in utter fury with defiant eyes appears hitting a higher pitch upon seeing its fallen mistress appears.
Rocking its body from one side to the other aided by the rounded base, the whip like vine hanging from its mouth shoots forward when the plant reaches thee full of its arc swing, ensnaring swiftly by binding Arthus’ closest arm. Hissing again while using the leaves attached to its body, it tugs back violently in further rocking movements to counteract the fall forward, trying desperately to pull the unbothered target with the Vine Whip.
‘If you hadn’t bothered with your creature, you could have just passed out for a few hours then left remembering nothing. Your mind is riddled with defiance without the ability for gratitude, so stubbornly protective of your little weeds.’ He retorts with that still twisted expression ripping into his own flesh as he sharply turns, forcing the flycatcher to stumble forward in a few bobbed movements.
Without another thought the vine is ripped off his arm forcing the ill-bred plant to blunder to the floor like a shoddily designed toy. There is a horrified glance from its owner as it crows weakly from the ground; the thing is useless without the irreplaceable vine.
‘Stalker, there’s fresh meat here if you want it. Be sure to leave some for the GLIC or whatever she *****ed about, I want to send the remnants back for them’ he half snaps gesturing swiftly with a hand, his annoyance turning the stripes of his neck. The thought that the girl was stupid enough to not only attack him, but with a creature floundering pathetic from being tamed.
The summoned beast steps away from the shadows from which it dwelt, the dim lighting causing its domain to be everywhere surrounding as it’s dulled bronze eye the trying to target trying to prise herself away from the rock beneath her. As the Split Jaw’s tail flicks, its mouth parts allowing a little salvia to drip in preparation from the telltale split in the lower jaw.
True, this breed will only eat hearts, but its fellows under their master’s command will happily devour the rest as long as it alone got its substance, its desire!
The beast prowls over to the panic stricken girl on all fours, the long claws of the left arm scraping across the ground beneath it as though a blade upon stone. Obsidian ignores all else as its long neck wavers a slight to its movement while remaining totally fixed on it’s prey.
Erika’s eyes widen as the Split Jaw charges at her in a sudden burst of speed, plunging its pointed snout into her chest in one swift dagger movement and tearing out the very heart beat of her body. Snapping its mouth shut as quickly as it was plucked, it allows the slowing organ to roll down its throat to a satisfied hissing sound.
Her own fading scream and the Stalker’s triumphant howl is the last few seconds the girl hears before her eyes turn to a misty death. Stilled in almost an instant and cooling to ice, blood starts trickling down her ever staining kimono accompanied by the remaining droplets falling enthralled by its new liquid death.
Let the feast begin!
This is based on an AU of a friend where one of my characters who I rp with, the person regarded here and herself were involved but in a more Pokemon setting.
All you need to know about that is Stone family is gone so she and her husband (still makes me snicker that) are now in charge there and it is now a fliers gym.
He and the guy here have issues which each other that is revealed throughout this and no I don't know where Gary went either, we both suspect he got offed
So thats all really, I do warn that in this chapter there is a random death, a little plain but what ya gonna do about it?
---
Collector
Chapter 1 – Victims First
Chapter 1 – Victims First
People often wonder who committed the murders of the Stone family of Pewter City; it was something never answered after all. Seven years ago yet still there is no clue and though all authorities attempts have given up trying to figure it out, as naturally would happen there is people who still choose ponder.
There has been a new gym leader there a while now even if a little reluctant at first, a girl who had come out of nowhere to cover using flying Pokemon instead of the traditional rock type, all dictated by the Higher authorities…
However the leader currently catering for the mostly desolate Viridian Gym happens to know exactly what happened there to every extent of detail. He knows about both the murder of the former gym trainers in perhaps both locations, possibly even other mystery deaths around the surrounding areas.
Of course where he “lives” few bother going near these days, nobody else lives there except him, as it’s quite a literal hellhole now carved to be different to suit his liking over the lush former grasslands and forest.
Anybody who is unlucky to see him will see him differently to another. To humans he looks human, to a hybrid human he will resemble the same hybrid, to a Pokemon different still. He is everything and nothing at the same time and only he actually knows what he really looks like behind this gift ability. The only trait that ever seems to be ever present is the most severe or scarlet gazes.
For you see the current leader isn’t human.
Nor hybrid.
Not even an enhanced Pokemon.
He is something completely different.
The matter of how ruthless this Gym Leader is will hardly escape any notice; nobody has ever beaten him in a fight let alone left Viridian with their life since blood first befell the area. To lose to him is equivalent to losing your life in this twisted game, your corpse free to be left rotting in the mangled terrain of desert and burning grounds.
So many different names have been used, recycled, rearranged as he manipulates and deceives constant charges if his interest is caught, choosing to come and go as he pleases. This act is simply to update his knowledge and heed towards his former love for the collection, even if the thought has long evaporated in his bitter view and brings anything but the joy it once did.
This leader used to collect anything deemed a rarity be it an object or alive, as long as it fit the description. These were and still are kept imprisoned within a hidden room below the gym far out of the view from even the most eagle-eyed of idiotic wanderers.
Any collected females usually had the “pleasure” of not just being stared at as well; he loved a psychical examination of his prizes, regular ones at that but now his disinterest seems to have scarred the very thought, lingering only to incite his rage.
For us, his name is simply Arthus, a former collector of the rare and rarest, owner of the Viridian Gym, its redesigned badge and torn homeland.
----
Arthus sighs boredly as he flicks through his notes scrawled with what only can be described as doodles while rummaging through a few boxes with a free hand.
Necromancy of any of the Outlander corpses struck nought but a nerve now proving more of an irritant than a form of enjoyment so new ideas need to be sought before his mind has the chance to think alone. For those alive already, he has simply been lacking interest in the majority of the humans he has come across within the previous months leading to bother him greatly that another joy has turned blunted.
All four eyes narrow eyeing a notepad a moment before placing it with the rest accompanied by a slight tail flicker. Frowning further in his search, he takes the cigarette away from his jaw, not even flinching as some of the burning ash falls onto his flesh but it is not that it leaves a mark either upon the obsidian hide.
Nobody has stupidly come to the Gym either with those wretches under their command causing a summer like lull for entertainment. But a wandering thought proclaims, how is a creature purely made of big eyes and puff supposed to be used in battle anyway?
Even his fellow residents, several spawned demons and a lone Split Jaw show disinterest in the flesh and the last girl that came to his door waving cookies for sale. Life barely lasted longer than her shredded felt hat because of her annoying screams; that was about seven months ago.
Placing the cig back in his mouth he continues to sift and muse over his written notes, some hosting sand in their bindings. He keeps all these just to help understand the humans better for his personal studies but also to fit in better when he walks amongst them without seeming like a homeless man or further attractor of attention.
Their need for water he finds most bothersome of all for their information, he had never seen such a concept prior to founding this new land and from what he had gathered, and they were in constant need of it. Such strange, strange creatures.
The boxes themselves contain all sorts of various bits and pieces, rare in some cases but certainly not worth putting up for admirance. A rag or two with other clothing are there as well are neatly folded, not for himself seeing as the Reflector has them in built but several collectibles did need them.
Glancing aside from his notes again, he carefully scoops up a violet crystalline shard; he has been wondering where that had got to due to its absence for a few days. Given the trouble he had to get it he did not want it out of his sight so he puts the jewel by his foot with claws loosely curled over before going back to his reading
‘Obey or trick your superiors, enslave or destroy those who aren’t, hmm. If it was up to me the entirely region would be purged with the idiocy of the life forms here. Well… except two’ he muses aloud stubbing out the cigarette on his leg not even responding with a dutiful flinch as a response.
This happens to bother him a lot; one of his best hunters who he converted at a young age broke a few years ago because of the current Pewter Gym Leader. He has long started to get some sense of soul back and Arthus didn’t particularly like it, nor the fact that several attempts to get to the girl had failed for quelling his anger. She is truly unique, far different from the human reengages about. That alone meaning she is destined as a reward to be solely his, just like the Sukurji that had injured him so bad in times past.
He had got her once but she was pregnant, he couldn’t have done anything given the circumstances, which angered him further even if he had unintentionally helped aid the father to think she had cheated on him for himself. It was amusing while it lasted now with the happy families routine, the whole ideal has become much harder to control. Though the influence was still inside, the leader can barely get anything through beyond updates to the body dweller.
It would be so easy to use a psychic shock to overwhelm the traitor, let the influence site up their little world but he could never get close enough. Given the various murders lately however, it would seem Hance in Pewter City was rather high on the list of suspects according to papers; at least something shows a sign of intelligence in this realm.
He had wanted the girl badly, lusted for her, needing to see her under glass like so many had been long before but have since died unable to sate his demand before he gave up on the notion entirely. But she is different for the Dragon thing he had picked up on a few years ago, worth bringing back again and again possibly if the candle would be rekindled.
It’s just the now husband was in the way; that’s something else he never did quite get over he never looked the type at all.
‘Blasted humans’ he mutters flipping back through his notes back to the ones on Yami.
He has collected quite a lot of data on her, both through running into her those scarce few times and things the influence had mentioned…. Weak points like constant paranoia and the fact she still gets a little edgy if nobodies there including the brat or one of Hance’s Pokemon.
Kids are either a failure upon his species or it is just him who hates them so.
As far as he had been told, there have been no other children in any form, just the unusually fast growing one that surely came incidentally from the infection; she’d still be takable if things were timed right which would be easy on his part but there would be problematic. He is rather for having the girl here for good over pitifully short periods but he is personally unsure if he could get the swine back under his control again to allow for it.
‘Erm hello, please is anybody here?’ a voice echoes from upstairs accompanied by an uneasy creak.
Muttering angrily with a quick scritch of one of his extra eyes, Arthus gets swiftly off the bed, leaving his notes and boxes where they are. Without so much of a check he heads towards the stairs ascending in a drawn out stone spiral out of sight before him.
Truthfully he loathes being interrupted no matter the reason and often with a neck snap in response but, if somebody bothered to come to his little wasteland, he wasn’t about to deny him or her a presence as that would be quite rude wouldn’t it?
His fury lightens slightly when his eyes meet the visitor, a girl, a human girl with short emerald hair and a determined yet almost desperate expression with hands tightly clasped together. Even from the doorway it is hard to miss the slit of blood trickling down her arm, surely gained as gift from one of his fellow residents not liking a new comer on their land.
‘Yes, there is somebody here’ he answers flatly standing a little way as he waits patiently for why she had decided to come and more so for why his presence was demanded. Given such a weak build and almost whitest skin from the light, it can hardly be considered that she is at all strong enough for travel letting a curious taint linger.
‘I am Erika, sir, leader of the Celadon Gym and part of the Gym Leader Institute Commission which you may also know as GLIC. I have come upon request of higher authorities regarding your… Gym’ her tone tries to match a feel of timid with an attention grabbing tone failing miserably by the way she looks round constantly like the shadows would jump her. That said they wouldn’t be doing until told to.
‘Just call me Arthus, hu- miss, I am no sir’ he responds with a slight dip of head, inwardly cursing himself the half slip caused but his current isolation. Giving a light curtsey despite her rather draping kimono in return, Erika tries to keep eye contact for politeness sake to add to her stern demure but each time she flinches away never able to hold it for more than a few seconds at a shot.
Arthus knows well enough what she wants without need of question now he has had his moments, her mind is but a shatter of nerves further shown by the way she keeps pulling back her sleeve to stop it touching the wound as it slides back down every so often.
‘Well then… Arthus, I have come after many messengers we have sent have simply vanished after been seen through Pewter City so I am afraid I have had to come in person on their behalf. Since the former Leader of this location also disappeared a few years ago now, this gym was never reinstated with the GLIC and has had some… renovation which has not been submitted for approval either.’ She frowns slightly at his totally unbothered expression.
‘If I may ask regarding the desolation outside; do you have such disregard for plant life?’
‘The messengers who trespassed here were dealt with accordingly; I saw no need to lower myself to underlings rule, not then nor do I now. This region has little I can consider care for.’ He answers with a far stronger tone and eyes firmly narrowed over those crossed arms.
Even the Celadon Gym Leader cannot hide the shudder.
‘As a new gym leader it’s your duty to abide by the rules of GLIC, there are to be no exceptions.’ Her voice is already quietening, her eyes slightly wider and nerves surfacing by the second at the way he eyes, the slight grin crawling into his face.
‘Well,’ he answers with an almost sick tone, the grin turning further twisted with a touch of inhuman as he glares at her, the door behind the new Message Runner creaking shut with lock
‘I guess I can show none for you either.’
Erika looks at him, stricken with alarm at his words when, suddenly, something strikes her mind in the form a violent mental jolt forcing her without to the ground and her eyes to pale. Her entire body revolts in agony in twitches, all the nerves feeling as though on a fire while really, it’s just the strike attacking the main area of the brain where they are located.
‘Sorry human but I’m not about to lower myself to your politics or your laws, they simply don’t interest me.’ Turning away with his amusement dropped for a far more boredly approach that she fell at such a feeble strike.
Despite the pain forcing her struggle to become barely noticeable, Erika somehow manages to move her hand to where are Pokemon are kept, grazing it once, twice with her finger tips before actually catching one for release. As the light fades, a rotten yellow patched Victreebel hisses in utter fury with defiant eyes appears hitting a higher pitch upon seeing its fallen mistress appears.
Rocking its body from one side to the other aided by the rounded base, the whip like vine hanging from its mouth shoots forward when the plant reaches thee full of its arc swing, ensnaring swiftly by binding Arthus’ closest arm. Hissing again while using the leaves attached to its body, it tugs back violently in further rocking movements to counteract the fall forward, trying desperately to pull the unbothered target with the Vine Whip.
‘If you hadn’t bothered with your creature, you could have just passed out for a few hours then left remembering nothing. Your mind is riddled with defiance without the ability for gratitude, so stubbornly protective of your little weeds.’ He retorts with that still twisted expression ripping into his own flesh as he sharply turns, forcing the flycatcher to stumble forward in a few bobbed movements.
Without another thought the vine is ripped off his arm forcing the ill-bred plant to blunder to the floor like a shoddily designed toy. There is a horrified glance from its owner as it crows weakly from the ground; the thing is useless without the irreplaceable vine.
‘Stalker, there’s fresh meat here if you want it. Be sure to leave some for the GLIC or whatever she *****ed about, I want to send the remnants back for them’ he half snaps gesturing swiftly with a hand, his annoyance turning the stripes of his neck. The thought that the girl was stupid enough to not only attack him, but with a creature floundering pathetic from being tamed.
The summoned beast steps away from the shadows from which it dwelt, the dim lighting causing its domain to be everywhere surrounding as it’s dulled bronze eye the trying to target trying to prise herself away from the rock beneath her. As the Split Jaw’s tail flicks, its mouth parts allowing a little salvia to drip in preparation from the telltale split in the lower jaw.
True, this breed will only eat hearts, but its fellows under their master’s command will happily devour the rest as long as it alone got its substance, its desire!
The beast prowls over to the panic stricken girl on all fours, the long claws of the left arm scraping across the ground beneath it as though a blade upon stone. Obsidian ignores all else as its long neck wavers a slight to its movement while remaining totally fixed on it’s prey.
Erika’s eyes widen as the Split Jaw charges at her in a sudden burst of speed, plunging its pointed snout into her chest in one swift dagger movement and tearing out the very heart beat of her body. Snapping its mouth shut as quickly as it was plucked, it allows the slowing organ to roll down its throat to a satisfied hissing sound.
Her own fading scream and the Stalker’s triumphant howl is the last few seconds the girl hears before her eyes turn to a misty death. Stilled in almost an instant and cooling to ice, blood starts trickling down her ever staining kimono accompanied by the remaining droplets falling enthralled by its new liquid death.
Let the feast begin!
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